


this structure fell about our feet (and we were free to go)

by redcapesarecoming



Category: Red Velvet (K-pop Band)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22768771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcapesarecoming/pseuds/redcapesarecoming
Summary: the seven times Irene and Wendy met in an airport
Relationships: Bae Joohyun | Irene/Son Seungwan | Wendy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 108





	this structure fell about our feet (and we were free to go)

**Author's Note:**

> but the angles and the corners  
> even though my work is unparalelled  
> they never seemed to meet  
> this structure fell about our feet  
> and we were free to go
> 
> -the decemberists, here i dreamt i was an architect

i.

Irene first meets her 35 minutes after she arrived in the airport terminal. 

She’s running on less than 3 hours of sleep and her eyelids feel heavier than all three of her luggage combined and she feels cold, and suddenly a girl with quite possibly the brightest smile Irene has ever seen stands in front of her, a cup of warm coffee in her hand. 

“You look like you need this,” she smiles. She waits until Irene regains control of her limbs and accepts the coffee before going back to her seat. 

Looking back, Irene realized that this was the moment that started it all—as she watched the harsh fluorescent airport lights settle on the girl’s face as she’s busy fiddling on her phone, and thinking that the girl looked sophisticated, _beautiful_ in her turtleneck and parka; not knowing that someday Irene herself will steal that same parka just because it smells like her, just because she can. 

But for now, Irene takes a sip of her coffee and tries her best to not let eyes wander to the girl a few seats away from her.

ii.

It’s almost taunting her, Irene thinks, as she stares on the bright red ‘ _DELAYED_ ’ text next to _Flight Z2 611_ before it disappears. She looks at her ticket and confirms that yes, Flight Z2 611 going to New York _is_ her plane and it’s _delayed_.

Of course, Irene understands that these things happen, but she just doesn’t understand why it has to be _now_ when she’s working on a very important case. She decides that complaining won’t do anything, and looking at the annoyed faces of the passengers around her, she doesn’t want to add to the stress of the staff so she leans back, closes her eyes, and reviews the case in her head.

“Excuse me?” 

Irene hears a soft, quiet voice beside her. She releases a quiet groan and nuzzles the soft pillow beneath her cheek.

“Miss?” the voice says again, suddenly more insistent. 

“Five more minutes,” Irene mumbles, taking a deep inhale and instantly being hit with a fresh heavenly scent. It was then that she remembers that she’s _not_ in her bed nor did she bring a pillow with her. 

Irene bolts upright and sees a woman— _her_ with her kind eyes and bright smile—sitting beside her, a small wet spot on the woman’s shoulder. “Am I dreaming?” Irene says, voice laced with sleep as she wipes the remaining drool on her chin.

The woman’s smile gets wider, brighter, and Irene thinks she’s never seen anything like it before. “Wouldn’t it be weird to dream about drooling on a stranger?” she says, snapping Irene out of her trance.

“Uh, sorry, sorry,” Irene pulls her sleeve to her hand and uses it to wipe the wet spot on the woman’s shoulder.

“No, no, I’m kidding. It’s oka—”

“I don’t even remember that someone was sitting beside me—”

“It’s okay,” The woman interrupts, stilling Irene’s hand with her own. 

“You smell really nice,” Irene says, because they’re sitting _so close_ next to each other, and there’s only one thin piece of fabric between their hands, and it doesn’t help the thunderous beat of Irene’s heart in her chest, and she is still so, _so_ sleepy. 

Irene swears she sees a faint blush on the woman’s cheeks. “Thank you,” the woman replies. “I, um, saw you sleeping and I thought maybe you needed someone to guard your things,” she shrugs, sheepish.

“Oh,” Irene blinks. “That’s nice, thank you. Sorry I slept on you.”

“I’m sorry for waking you up. I just thought I heard your flight being called? It’s, um, Flight Z2 611 to New York, right?”

Irene’s eyes widened. “Uh, what?”

The woman suddenly got nervous. “I know I shouldn’t have but I peeked at your ticket and I saw your flight details and it was called but you were still asleep and,” she took a deep breath, Irene tries not to be charmed by it (she failed), “Okay, I’m sorry for rambling but you have to board _right now._ ”

Irene’s contemplation of whether or not the girl is bordering on creepy, cute, or both was suddenly interrupted by an announcement. 

_“This is the final boarding call for passengers booked on Flight Z2 611 to New York City. Please proceed to Gate 3 immediately. Thank you.”_

Grabbing her things around her, Irene immediately shakes the sleep out of her and she gets up, offers a rushed, “Thank you, I have to go,” and ran.

The adorable _“Have a safe flight!”_ that was shouted at her made Irene smile the whole 18-hour flight.

iii.

Irene’s head is killing her. 

She tries not to think about it, though, especially right now, because her flight was scheduled to leave at exactly 45 minutes, and the storm has completely drenched her jacket, and she’s still currently power walking through security—which means she’s late, and the pain in her temple increases _because_ she’s _soaked_ and _late_.

When she arrives at the terminal, though, the amount of people surprised her. It isn’t unusual for an airport to be overcrowded, of course, especially during peak seasons, but Irene has a 2am flight, and there are so many people that some are sitting on the floor.

She goes to check the flight schedule and sees that her flight still hasn’t left. A closer look shows that several other flights before hers still hasn’t even boarded yet.

And as if on cue, an announcement rings through the speakers. 

_“Attention passengers. We are sorry to inform you that all flights have been delayed due to the inclement weather and shall resume when flying conditions are safe. We apologize for any inconvenience. Thank you.”_

Collective groans were heard throughout the terminal, and Irene takes this opportunity to plow through the crowd to find a place to rest, or at the very least, somewhere she can dry herself off.

She finally finds one near the end of the terminal, beside a blonde, bundled up woman with her face hidden behind her laptop. 

“Hey, is this seat taken?” Irene asks, trying her best to control the chattering of her teeth.

The woman removes her earbuds and looks up, recognition immediately flashed through her face. “Hey, it’s you agai— _oh my god_ , are you cold?” She starts rifling through her bag. “I know I have an extra jacket here somewhere. Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, but I swear, I’m okay,” Irene says, settling beside the woman. She squeezes the water out of her hair and onto the potted plant beside her.

The woman continues to search her bag. “You’re shivering.”

“I’m just excited,” Irene lies. 

The woman stills. “What?”

_Shit_ . Her heart starts thumping loudly in her chest until it’s the only thing she can hear. “Um,” Irene nervously grabs a fistful of her drenched jacket. “You know, I managed to not miss my _very_ important flight because of you. So thank you. Again.”

“Really?” The woman replies, the lilt in her voice making Irene even more nervous than she already is. “Was it a work thing?”

Irene nods. She continues to stray the conversation away from her idiotic response. “How about you? Are you travelling for work or?”

The woman chuckles. “If I’m being honest,” she leans closer to Irene like she’s confessing a secret, “I don’t even remember the last time I had a vacation.”

Irene’s heart races. Why are airport seats so small? Has it always been this small? Have they been sitting this closely all this time? The woman doesn’t seem to mind the proximity and Irene can’t understand how she looks so calm when Irene can’t focus on anything but where the woman’s shoulder is touching hers. “Yeah, um, same,” she breathes.

That seemed to be the end of the conversation as the woman goes to put her earphones back on and presses play on whatever it is she’s watching—glee, she’s watching _glee_.

Irene glances at the woman’s face and sees her smiling, her eyes shining with amusement, and, despite the thick coat wrapped around her, her cheeks are flushed pink from the cold. It’s disarming how pretty she is, Irene thinks, and her soft giggles and the cute way her shoulders bounce does nothing but increase the already irregular rhythm of Irene’s heart. 

“Do you want to watch, too?” the woman asks, taking Irene out of her hyperfixation. She removes one earbud and offers it to Irene.

The last thing Irene wants to do is watch _glee_ with a (beautiful) stranger when she’s moments from dying of hypothermia, but the woman is smiling at her and her eyes are twinkling so Irene gives a small smile back and says, “If you don’t mind.” She takes the earbud out of the woman’s hand and almost gasped when their fingertips touched. 

The woman smiles. “I’m Wendy, by the way,” she says, angling her laptop to accommodate Irene. 

“Irene,” she replies.

_“Irene,”_ Wendy whispers, as if she’s testing how it sounds. Irene feels something warm bloom inside her chest.

\---

Irene woke up with a cramp on her neck and a thick fluffy coat under her cheek. She doesn’t remember laying down to sleep—she doesn’t even remember the airport bench having enough space for her to lie down. 

There’s noticeably less people and Irene sees that it has also stopped raining. She looks around and realizes that the flights are back on; this explains why Wendy’s nowhere to be seen. 

Shaking the sleep out of her body, Irene goes and grabs the things around her to get ready. She was in the middle of debating if she should take Wendy’s coat with her or leave it to the lost and found when she sees the note stuck to the coat.

_I finally found my spare jacket! But you seemed to like the one I was wearing more so I just left it with you. Sorry, I didn’t wake you up before I left. You looked very tired so I figured I’ll just help you get to a more comfortable position. Have a safe flight, Irene!_

_-Wendy_

_PS you’ve fallen asleep on me twice already. should i be insulted? ;)_

_PPS please wake up on time for your flight._

The speakers echo throughout the terminal, bringing Irene back to reality. _“This is the last call for passenger Irene Bae, Flight 167 to Seoul. Departing at 10:45. Please come to Gate N2 to board immediately.”_

With a goofy smile on her face, Irene sprints down the terminal.

  
  


iv.

“Work or leisure?” Wendy greets, welcoming herself on the seat next to Irene.

“Oh, uh, hey,” Irene scrambles over to the side, putting a decent amount of distance between her and Wendy. “Still work. You?” 

Wendy leans back on her seat, erasing the distance Irene worked so hard to create. “Same,” she finally answers. “It’s getting pretty silly now isn't it? This is the third time, right?”

“Fourth one, actually,” Irene replies. When she sees Wendy’s confused frown, she continues. “Um, I don’t think you remember but you gave me a cup of coffee a month ago? I was waiting for my flight and I was sleepy and...yeah,” she trails off, stopping herself before she says something even more embarrassing. 

“Really?” Wendy leans even closer, Irene fears that the girl can hear her rapidly increasing heartbeat. “Can I ask what is it that you do? It's hard to meet someone who travels for work as much as I do.”

“Guess.”

“I don't know,” Wendy looks directly at Irene’s eyes as if she’s searching for something, then suddenly, “Are you a lawyer?” 

Irene gasps. “Is it that obvious?” 

“I think I’m just smart,” Wendy smirks.

“Well, in that case, I’m guessing you're a lawyer, too!” 

“Nope.” 

“ _Damn_. What are you then?” 

Wendy rolls her eyes. “Guess!” 

“A model?” 

_“What?”_ Wendy laughs. “You think I’m pretty enough to be a model?”

“I-I don’t know,” Irene can feel her face heating up. “Are you a designer?” 

Wendy shakes her head.

“Ugh, just tell me,” Irene grumbles.

Wendy hums. She looks around the terminal, a small smile on her face. Irene tries not to stare. “You know what,” Wendy starts, “I’ll tell you when we meet again.” 

“Oh?” Irene asks, surprised. “We’ll meet again?” 

“Yeah,” Wendy answers confidently.

Irene looks straight at Wendy, “You sound so sure.”

“That’s because I am,” Wendy stares back.

“And why is that?” 

“Because I’m gonna ask for your number before you fall asleep on me again,” Wendy winks. “Or e-mail, since I am basically a stranger to you and I understand that you can’t give your number to a woman you just met a couple of times.”

And shes cute and it’s probably stupid but, still, Irene gives her both.

v.

The first email came 18 hours after Irene landed. And then it never stopped coming. 

It was awkward at first, which is expected because they _are_ still strangers, but Wendy is as lively in their emails as she is in person so it’s no surprise that soon enough, they talked about each other’s days as if they’ve been friends forever. 

Irene learns that Wendy is actually the CEO of an international company, and if that’s not impressive enough, the girl built it from the ground up. She is charming and witty and she has a hidden talent of making Irene’s bad days end on a good note. They exchange emails twice daily, but Wendy always finds a way to make hers five paragraphs long—not that Irene minds, in fact if she’s being honest, Irene’s maybe, quite possibly, just a little bit smitten with her.

\---

The first text message came 4 months after they last met, and 2 hours before they see each other again. 

It was a month ago that Irene offhandedly dropped that she’s assigned a case in New Zealand, in which Wendy very enthusiastically replies that she’s also traveling there 2 days earlier than Irene. 

“ _It is kind of unfortunate that we won’t be traveling on the same day, though,_ ” Wendy sends her in an email. “ _I was really looking forward to seeing you in the airport. It is our thing now, isn’t it?_ ”

A few weeks and a few strings pulled later, Irene’s flight was magically moved 2 days earlier—the same day, time, and flight as Wendy’s. It’s because she wanted to see her friend, Irene tells herself, and definitely not because of the way her heart lurched to her throat when Wendy casually informed her that airports are _their_ thing now.

_‘What’s your favorite snack? I’m going to give you some when we meet later! :)’_ Wendy texted her earlier in the morning. 

Nowhere in that text said that Wendy will greet her with anything more than a couple of snacks and yet, she still arrived with a whole bag full of food and a wide smile for Irene.

“You do know that we have in-flight food, right?” Irene greets, taking some of Wendy’s bags. 

“Yes, and I know those are _horrible_ ,” Wendy grumbles. “So I made you these!”

Irene pauses. “You _made_ these?”

“Don’t look too shocked,” Wendy chuckles. “There’s a lot you don't know about me,” she winks.

\---

Wendy is...afraid of flying. 

Irene isn’t sure yet and the girl didn’t really say anything but her whole attitude has changed 20 minutes before they settled on their seat. Irene thinks it isn’t any of her business, so she mostly tried to ignore it, but it is getting out of hand.

“You look a bit worried,” Wendy says as she folds and unfolds her jacket for the umpteenth time. “Are you okay?”

Irene frowns. “Are _you_ okay?”

“What? Yeah, of course,” Wendy answers, now rapidly tapping her nails on the arm rests. 

Irene places her hand on top of Wendy’s nervous ones and says, “You’re out of beat.”

Wendy sighs. “I know it’s stupid because of the requirements of my career but,” she rubs her thumb up and down Irene’s. “I’m scared of flying. Even after years of doing this, it never went away.”

“It’s not stupid,” Irene smiles, squeezing Wendy’s hand. “I mean, my first plane ride was so awful that I kinda understand where you’re coming from.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Irene continues to tell her story, then another, and another. Soon enough, Wendy was calm enough to share her own stories. They exchanged stories throughout the flight and before they know it, they’re about to land—Irene’s hand still firmly holding Wendy’s.

“So, um, when’s your flight back?” Wendy asks as she helps Irene get her bags from the overhead compartment.

“When I win the case,” Irene shrugs.

“Oh okay, well, um, good luck,” Wendy says as she gives Irene a short hug.

“Thank you,” Irene smiles, already missing Wendy’s hand in hers. “I’ll go get going then. Take care, Wendy.” 

Irene plows her way through the sea of people racing to get out of the plane first, a little bit disappointed in herself for not saying anything to Wendy. But it’s not as if she _can_ say anything, whatever she’s feeling is as vague as their _‘friendship’_ is so—

“Hey, Irene?” Wendy hollers from the opposite end of the plane. “Give me a call when you come back? I just—I want to invite you over for dinner,” she says, totally unaware of the weird looks they’re getting. “I’ll cook for you! If, um, that’s okay,” she adds, suddenly nervous as if she didn’t just ask Irene out by shouting it in a plane full of people. 

Irene, with her cheeks flushed and a wide smile on her face, gives Wendy a small nod before stepping out of the plane.

\---

And that’s why, 4 months later, Irene finds herself going directly from the airport to Wendy’s house.

The months leading up to this day have been full of care packages (courtesy of Wendy) and nerves (also courtesy of Wendy) for Irene. From a new stack of printer paper to a new pair of sunglasses, Wendy’s box always somehow knows just what Irene needs; she even received a box of tea the night before she left for the airport.

_‘for your nerves!’_ Wendy wrote in her care package. _‘remember: i am also very excited to see you!’_

Apart from that, nothing big has really changed since their last meeti—

The door to Wendy’s home opens abruptly. 

“How long have you been standing there?” Wendy almost shouts. Her bangs are clipped to the side and she’s still in her (very stained) apron. She’s beautiful, but it’s obvious that Irene arrived too early. “You could have knocked, you know?” Wendy adds.

“I—the tea didn’t work,” Irene mumbles, because her brain can’t really focus on anything but Wendy in her apron. It is extremely domestic, and the butterflies in Irene’s stomach are going crazy right now.

“I can see that,” Wendy giggles. “Your hands are literally shaking,” She moves to hold Irene’s hand in hers. “You’ve got nothing to worry about, okay? I won’t bite,” she winks. “Unless...you want me to?”

The flirting—the flirting is _very_ much new.

“Ask me again after dinner,” Irene answers, because she can play this game too.

\---

“Are you okay?” Wendy’s voice takes Irene out of her reverie.

Dinner went smoothly. 

Wendy is as amazing at cooking as she is at making Irene feel at home. They talked about their families, their jobs, the places they’ve traveled to, anything but _this_ is.

Irene nods. “This is just... _weird_.”

Wendy frowns, “What is?” she asks.

“Seeing you somewhere other than an airport,” Irene answers. “But I like it,” she whispers, biting her lip.

Wendy hums. “I like it, too.”

“Good,” Irene breathes. Emboldened by Wendy’s confession, she leans in closer, “Because I really want a repeat of this.”

“Another...date?”

“No,” Irene can hear the deafening sound of her own heartbeat. “ _This_ ,” she leans in, wraps her arms around Wendy’s shoulders, and kisses her.

The sound of Wendy’s things falling over was barely audible over Irene and Wendy’s fervent moans as they pushed and pulled one another against walls and desks until finally landing on the couch. Wendy moans, the sound shakes Irene straight to her core as she let her hands roam everywhere and anywhere they could. Irene’s teeth slid against Wendy’s lower lip, pulling it away briefly before sucking on it. 

“ _Oh god,_ wait, wait,” Wendy whispers through panting breath. “I ha—I have to leave tomorrow. I have to leave for work—I have a flight and I’ll be there for a month,” She rubs her thumbs against Irene’s cheeks. “Do you—do you really wanna do this?”

Irene grabs a fistful of Wendy’s shirt and mumbles an “I’ll drive you to the airport,” before reattaching her lips to hers.

vi.

True to her word, Irene went with Wendy to the airport the next day. 

Both aware of how demanding and hectic their jobs are, the two still agreed to try and see where this relationship takes them. 

“Well, we’re here again,” Wendy jokes, but the sad look on her face is breaking Irene’s heart. 

“I already miss you,” Irene whispers, hoping that Wendy didn’t hear over the noise of the airport.

Wendy sighs. “30 days and I’m yours again, I promise,” She wraps her arms around Irene, “Gives you enough time to plan that second date.”

“It’ll be the best second date you’ll ever experience,” Irene promises.

“I expect to be mind blown, Miss Bae,” Wendy giggles.

And as Irene watches Wendy enter the airport’s security, she can’t help but feel like she’s making the wrong decision.

\---

Her fear proved to be unnecessary at first though, because they _do_ try to make it work. They call each other every night, text each other whenever they can, see each other immediately whenever the other comes back from their trip, and it’s almost like there aren’t thousands of miles in between. 

But it didn’t take long for real life to catch up to them. 

“It’s our _anniversary_ ,” Irene exclaimed because Wendy has been absent for weeks and she thought this was the day she’d finally see her again, even if it is through a phone screen. 

“ _It was a very important meeting, Baby,_ ” Wendy’s voice is tired, almost defeated. It has been for awhile now. She looks angry though, annoyed, exactly how she looked during their previous calls. “ _And I’m here now, aren’t I?_ ”

Irene rolls her eyes. “I have to get back to work in 10 minutes.”

“ _Then we better not waste time by arguing,_ ” Wendy sighs, burying her face in her hands. “ _These past few days...the only time you talk to me is whenever we argue,_ ” she mumbles.

“What does that even mean?”

“ _I don’t know._ ”

Irene grinds her teeth. “You _know_ I’m under a lot of pressu—”

“ _Because of your work, I know_.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Irene asks, irritated. Her break is ending soon and she still hasn’t found the right opportunity to show Wendy her gift. 

When the girl refused to answer, Irene got angrier. “Are you just gonna ignore m—”

“ _When you agreed to do this with me, did you think about days like this?_ ” Wendy interrupts, looking straight at Irene. 

“ _Of course_ ,” Irene sighs. “But you’ve been _distant_ for weeks—”

“ _I’ve been_ busy _for weeks._ ”

“Don’t you think I’m busy too? But I _find_ time, Babe.” By this point she was ranting. She knows her face was flushed and her hands are trembling. “I know work has been very hard for you lately, it’s why I didn’t ask for your whole day! I just wanted to spend a couple of hours with you—just a couple of hours. I miss you so much, I even have a gif—”

“ _You know, I_ knew _I had work the next day—I_ knew _I was going to leave immediately. I—I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I just—sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t have let you kiss me that night,_ ” Wendy says in a low voice, barely audible. 

Wendy’s words pierced through Irene as if she’s been stabbed. She knew this was coming, she just thought Wendy would be decent enough not to do it on their anniversary. “So that’s it,” Irene lets out a watery laugh, the tears finally appearing in her eyes. “You regret it,” she whispers.

“ _No, I—_ ”

“I have to get back to work.” 

“ _Oh, okay. I love y—_ ”

Irene shuts her computer off.

\---

_'Can we talk?_ ' Wendy sends her a couple of hours later. 

_'I don’t regret anything that happened between us. I just thought that after a year together, this will be easier. Please call me back, let me explain_.' Wendy texts when Irene didn’t reply. 

_'Let’s talk about this, please. Talk to me.'_ Wendy sends her a couple of days later.

Irene receives the next text a month later. ' _I saw someone that looked like you in the airport today. I almost ran up to talk to them. I miss you so much it hurts.'_

_'I dreamt of you today. I wish I never woke up.'_ Wendy texts three months later.

Three and a half months later, Wendy texts, ' _Can you at least break up with me properly? Don’t I deserve that much?'_

Then, _I'’m sorry. I miss you.'_ a couple of hours later. 

_'i lvoe yiu plz comebcak :(('_ Wendy texts along with 50 missed calls. 

Finally, six months later, the final text came. _'Someone asked me out on a date. I said yes. I just thought you should know.'_

Irene deletes her number.

vii.

Irene has been staring at the luggage carousel for about half an hour now. Maybe it was her fault for choosing the most generic looking luggage and refusing to put any distinguishable sticker or key chain on it, but this isn’t her first rodeo and she knows that soon enough, she will recognize her bag. 

The airport was full of people in business suits, either on the phone, power walking through the sea of people, or both. Her people, she thinks, but she’s working on straying away from that.

A black suitcase with pink colored zipper pull tab starts making its way around the carousel and towards Irene. This is it, this is her luggage. She was about to grab her bag when she heard a voice behind her.

“Hello? Yes, I just landed. 30 minutes and I’ll be there. Yeah. You have my word, thank you.”

Irene knows that voice, she hasn’t heard that voice in three years. 

She immediately turns around and it didn't take long for her eyes to land on her—her kind eyes and bright smile still so effective at grabbing Irene’s attention. 

It takes a moment for Irene to register, and suddenly Irene feels a sharp sting on her chest—hot and sudden and _piercing_ —and her eyes burn so much she’s afraid she’s going to cry. 

Her hair is longer now, Irene notes, her posture is more laid back; she looks healthier, _happier_ , her eyes are clearer, she’s carefree. It’s almost entrancing, just how it was the first time Irene saw her, and it leaves Irene rooted in her spot. 

She’s a few meters away from Irene, hovering near the exit of the airport, eyes still glued on her phone, and every fiber in Irene’s body was screaming for her to reach out. 

And then, by some miracle, Wendy looks up from her phone, her eyes immediately zeroes in on Irene, and there’s shock, then she takes a deep breath, and smiles her bright smile at Irene. Irene smiles, the tears pooling in her eyes, and she gives a small wave back. Wendy’s smile gets bigger, and Irene is suddenly hit by this longing to accompany Wendy home, and ask if she’s eaten yet because she always forgets when she’s busy, and maybe she’s still shaken up from her flight because the weather hasn’t been the best lately. 

Wendy stares at Irene, nods her head once, and walks out of the airport, and Irene realizes that maybe, in another life where she did everything right, she could have been the one to pick her up from the airport, but right now she can’t. _Not anymore._

So she waits another lap for the luggage carousel to give her bag to her, and tries to drown out the image of Wendy happily getting into a car with someone else.

**Author's Note:**

> this was kinda rushed lol so sorry for any mistakes & thank u for reading!!
> 
> listen to 'masyado pang maaga' by Ben&Ben while reading for the extra feels :)))


End file.
